


He's not just drunk (He's really not)

by fixme_in_fortyfive



Series: Tumblr Prompts & Drabbles [11]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Blackcards!Pete, M/M, Peterick, Soulpunk!Patrick, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 21:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7590478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fixme_in_fortyfive/pseuds/fixme_in_fortyfive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt I got from a lovely anon: Can you write something with Soulpunk!Patrick and Pete? sad or happy, whatever you like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's not just drunk (He's really not)

Funny, how Patrick wrote a song – a whole eight and a half minutes long – about getting sober and now he’s drunk off his ass in a club, dancing in a crowd of people he don’t know, like he wants to do just that for the rest of his life. Maybe funny is not the right word. Maybe dancing isn’t either.  

Pete has no idea how in the world the two of them ended up in the same club in the same city at the same time. They haven’t spoken with each other for almost nine month and haven’t seen each other even longer.

Patrick has been busy with his solo stuff – maybe it was just him hiding behind work - and Pete has been working with Bebe.

And yet here they are.

For the past half hour Pete has been watching Patrick - drinking, celebrating maybe a good show or just a good day, dancing in the crowd. He looks carefree and happy, something Pete hasn’t seen in a long time – definitely not towards the end.

Patrick hasn’t noticed him at all and Pete thinks that might be a good thing. He doesn’t want to ruin Patrick’s good mood.

He drowns the rest of his drink – something that hasn’t been nearly sweet enough to mask the strong alcoholic taste - and turns to leave.

But he finds his way blocked and his plan to leave without being seen ruined.

With Patrick standing right in front of him, Pete can see up close his bleached hair plastered in sweaty strands across his forehead. His face a little red from the warm air and from all the dancing, too, the confused eyes trying to make sense of their meeting. But he doesn't look angry.

“What are you doing here?”

Patrick is shouting to be heard over the loud music. It just barely works.

“Nothing, I was just leaving.”

He tries to move past Patrick, careful not to bump into him when someone shoves him from behind. A tight grip on his arm stops any further steps he might have taken.  

And then Patrick is kissing him in the middle of a club, between a dancing crowd, like he wants to do that, too, for the rest of his life. And even though Pete has no idea how and why Patrick is kissing him, it’s not enough reason for Pete to stop him.

Not when he has been waiting for this for so long and not when he can wrap his arms around Patrick instead, pulling him even closer. His whole body emanates heat, his shirt is slightly damp and sticking to Patrick’s skin underneath. It reminds Pete of long gone shows when he was pressed against Patrick under the spotlight.

But this is different, with Patrick’s hand holding Pete close by his neck and the sweet taste of alcohol on his tongue.

When they step apart the music is still blasting around them, there are probably even more people now, everything seems the same. But it’s not. Not when Pete wants to ask Patrick to leave with him and Patrick looks like he might even say yes.

He’s leaning closer to Patrick, his mouth right next to Patrick’s ear so he doesn’t have to shout again. He can feel goose bumps on Patrick’s skin where his hand is still holding on to him.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Patrick nods, his eyes a little glassy and clouded. Pete is not sure from what exactly. He takes the lead and pulls Patrick along by his hand, mindful not to lose him in the crowd as he makes his way to the exit door.

Outside when the cool night air hits their heated faces they kiss some more, not caring for anyone who might walk by and see them. Pete only stops when he spots a cab in the corner of his eye.

“Let’s go.”

They sit together in the back seat, keeping their hands to themselves while the cab driver – an older guy, maybe in his early fifties - asks where he can take them. Only Patrick’s hand lies on Pete’s thigh and their arms are pressed together between them. Pete can hear and feel Patrick’s deep breathing next to him. Although it’s the middle of the night it takes a while, driving through the city, an Pete can feel his eyelids getting heavy.

But when the car stops in front of Pete’s hotel it’s actually Patrick that is fast asleep, at some point during the ride his head slumped down onto Pete’s shoulder.

The driver looks back at them, but hasn’t said anything yet  to get them out of his car. Pete really doesn’t’ want to wake up Patrick. He will probably feel bad enough come tomorrow morning and he looks so peaceful with his face completely relaxed.

“Do you have another ride coming up?”

Pete is whispering, looking up to the cab driver, who is eyeing them through the rearview mirror.

“Not yet.”

He’s glad he has some bills in his pocket and doesn’t have to get his wallet out. That could have been difficult with Patrick heavily leaning against him and blocking the whole right side of his body.

“Can you take a break, maybe?”

He holds out a crumbled 100-dollar bill, hopeful that the guy is up for some easy cash. He eyes them again through the rearview mirror, maybe assessing if they’re up to something shady.

“Okay, but I’m taking the keys.”

“Yeah, no problem. Thank you.”

The guy takes the bill from Pete’s hand, takes his car keys out of the ignition and then leaves them alone in his car, closing the door with a quiet thump.

And now Pete’s alone with Patrick. He’s combing his hand through Patrick’s messy hair, careful not to wake him. Pete smiles to himself and places a carful kiss onto Patrick’s forehead. That just might be the best night he ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> You can send me prompts and a ship, if you want. Either here or on [tumblr](http://fixme-in-fortyfive.tumblr.com/)


End file.
